


if you wanna start a fight, you better throw the first punch

by agetwellcard



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drunk Steve Rogers, Drunkenness, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, serious debates about the morality of harry potter characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agetwellcard/pseuds/agetwellcard
Summary: On the back of an old envelope, Bucky writes, “Hey Steve, you tried to beat me up for saying Dumbledore was a good guy and then you knocked yourself unconscious. You couldn’t remember where you lived so I brought you back to my place. I didn’t kidnap you, I promise. –Bucky.” Bucky hopes it isn’t as weird as he thinks it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so i recently finished a super serious fic and thought maybe it would be nice to write a much less serious one. i saw this au on one of those massive masterposts on tumblr and thought it was pretty much perfect for steve.
> 
> oh and title is from that p!atd song "the good, the bad, and the dirty".

“Look,” Bucky says, pointing a finger at Natasha. “I just don’t think he was really that bad of a guy.”

Expectedly, Natasha rolls her eyes. “James, did you even read the books?”

They’re a few blocks over from Bucky’s apartment at a bar that sells cheap draft on Thursday nights (even if Natasha resolutely only drinks vodka because she thinks she has to live up to some Russian standard) and have somehow already started debating, and about Harry Potter of all things. Bucky’s only halfway through his first beer, and he refuses to get kicked out because of yelling until he’s buzzed.

“I did read them!” Bucky says quickly. “I borrowed them from you, Nat.”

“Then how the fuck can you say Dumbledore was a good guy?”

When she says this, voice raised, Bucky can see the way the skinny, blond guy next to him at the bar peaks over for the fifth time. He’s been not-so-sneakily glancing at Bucky every few minutes as drinks his beer by himself. Bucky wonders if either he’s checking him out or trying to kindly tell him to speak quieter. Bucky ignores him.

“The dude was just trying his best,” Bucky argues, taking a sip from his glass. He’s not one-hundred percent into the argument, but he always loves to play devil’s advocate when it comes to Natasha.

She gives him a hard look. “Bullshit!”

Bucky tries to hide his growing smirk as he realizes how worked up Natasha is about this already. He knows what he’s about to say will only drive her mad. “I think Harry naming his son after him was totally the right thing to do,” he says knowingly.

Before Natasha can even begin to yell at him, the blond guy next to him turns to him angrily. “I’m sorry, but that is not true _at all_!” he snaps, words drunkenly slurring together but angry nonetheless.

“Uh,” Bucky hums stupidly, not expecting the guy to be so…pretty. Beside his pale complexion being flushed, his bright blue eyes stare daggers at Bucky and his lips are a bright red. And, _god_ , don’t even get him started on those eyelashes.

He’s also incredibly angry.

“He left a baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night! And then – okay, and then he let Harry get abused by that horrible family for years and never helped him,” the guy is yelling at him. “That’s fucked up.”

“That _is_ fucked up,” Natasha agrees, smiling at him.

The guy exaggeratedly points at Natasha. “See!” he exclaims. “And it only gets worse from there.”

Bucky’s mouth has dropped open, helplessly watching as this tiny man angrily rants to an absolute stranger about the morality of a fictional character.

“He didn’t tell Harry anything!” he shouts, hands now balled into fists. “He knew he was going to die and just let it happen!”

“That is even more fucked up,” Natasha points out.

Bucky gives her a look before he turns back to the blond guy. Bucky’s helplessly amused by his anger about this, his tiny frame nearly shaking with it. He can’t help but to prod him further. “He was doing it for the greater good,” Bucky says, trying to will himself from bursting into laughter.

This sets the guy off even more, though, and suddenly he’s standing in front of Bucky with his fists up. “I’ll fight you about this,” he says, bouncing up and down sloppily. “Dumbledore was not a good guy. And I can’t let you keep thinking that he is.”

Bucky can’t believe how fired up this kid is about Harry Potter, and he’s almost kind of loves him for his devotion and how cute he looks. Then, though, before Bucky can try to deescalate the situation so he doesn’t end up in a goddamn bar fight with the skinniest guy in Brooklyn, the guy slips as he’s jumping back and forth in front of Bucky. He falls like a dead weight, skinny limbs knocking into the floor and his head making a thudding noise when he drops.

“Oh my god,” Natasha says from beside him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Bucky exclaims, already stooping down to assess the damages.

The guy must’ve hit his head pretty hard since he’s knocked out, eyes closed and body not reacting as Bucky pokes at his chest and then belatedly checks his pulse. He’s still breathing. Bucky realizes that there is a puddle of something sticky on the ground, presumably what he slipped on, and now he’s lying it, a wet splotch on his dark t-shirt. People are crowding around, trying to find out what happened.

“Move out of the way,” Bucky says loudly, easily scooping the guy up in his arms bridal style and shouldering his way out of the bar.

Outside, the November winds are biting and Bucky carefully places the guy back down against the brick of the building. Cautiously, Bucky lightly shakes the guy, but nothing happens. He’s just about to start panicking and wonders if he should call an ambulance when the guy slowly opens his eyes.

“Wussup?” he says sleepily, eyes squinted in confusion.

Bucky heaves out a sigh of relief. “Dude, you just knocked yourself out because of Harry Potter.”

He somehow looks even more confused by this. He weakly points at Bucky. “Are you Harry Potter?”

“No,” Bucky says, smiling. “I’m Bucky. Do you remember your name?”

It takes a few seconds, but eventually he proudly announces, “I’m Steve.”

Bucky can’t help but to laugh fondly at him. He really is cute, his bangs falling into his sleepy looking eyes. _Jesus, Barnes, the guy just passed out; stop checking him out_ , Bucky thinks, internally cringing.

Natasha saves him, rushing out the door with a plastic cup full of water. She takes one look at Steve and sighs in relief. “Good, he’s awake,” she says, crouching down next to him and handing him the cup of water. “ _Drink_.”

“Are _you_ Harry Potter?” Steve asks now.

Natasha gives Bucky an annoyed look, like somehow he let this happen, and then pushes the cup into Steve hands. “No, I’m Natasha. Now drink up,” she tells him sternly.

Steve does as he’s told, albeit a little shakily, slopping water onto the front of his shirt.

“Can you tell us where you live, Steve?” Bucky asks softly. “We can walk you home.”

“It’s a big building,” Steve murmurs. “Has, like, a million floors.”

Bucky and Natasha exchange nervous glances.

“Do you remember the address, though?” Natasha presses.

Steve squints into the distance and shakes his head. “I’m cold,” he mutters.

The poor guy is only in a light zip-up hoodie, so Bucky slips off his leather jacket and wraps it around Steve’s shoulder and then shoots Natasha a worried look. “Should we take him to the hospital?” he asks her.

Steve’s eyes go wide at this. “ _No_!” he exclaims. “No, not the hospital. _Please_ , anywhere but the hospital.”

He’s gripping Bucky’s shirt, hands fisted into the material, and his eyes suddenly look glassy, like he’s going to cry at the thought of the going to the hospital.

“We won’t take you to the hospital,” Bucky assures him, just so he can stop looking like a kicked puppy.

Natasha is assessing the situation silently, arms crossed over her chest. After a few seconds, where Steve has managed to lean into Bucky’s chest, hands still wrapped up in his shirt, Natasha goes, “He’s probably still drunk. Just let him sleep it off on your couch.”

Bucky slowly nods, deciding it isn’t the worst idea. “Hey, Steve, you hear that?” he asks. “We’re gonna go to my place and you can sleep on my couch for a little bit.”

“Your place?” Steve asks, eyes wide again. He doesn’t look fearful this time, though. “You’re taking me home for the night?”

Bucky chokes out a laugh, shaking his head. “You wish, pal.”

“I do,” Steve tells him, “because you have a beautiful face.”

Natasha nearly cackles at this.

Bucky manages to get Steve up from the pavement, but he slings an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady. “You good to walk or do I need to call a cab?”

Steve scoffs. “I can _walk_.”

After saying goodnight to Natasha, promising to keep her updated on the situation, Bucky and Steve head off for his apartment. Steve is actually able to walk, but he keeps stumbling and muttering Bucky’s name, drawing it out. “Kind of a weird name,” he mumbles into Bucky’s neck, lips hot against his skin. “I like it, though.”

Bucky smiles. “Knees up, Stevie.”

They make it back to Bucky’s place after an agonizingly slow walk and then it hits Bucky that they have to walk up five flights of steps.

“Shit,” he hums. “Okay, new plan. I’m going to piggy back you up these stairs.”

“I can do it myself,” Steve assures him, breaking away to attempt to walk up the first flight. He nearly face-plants into the ground.

Bucky quickly grabs ahold of him. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Just get on my back.”

This night just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

Eventually, Bucky cajoles Steve to get on his back, and Bucky firmly holds onto his legs and makes his ascent up the stairs. Steve holds on tight, pushing his face into Bucky’s neck and mumbling, “Your hair smells good.”

After five grueling flights of stairs, they finally make it to his floor and he gently puts Steve back on the ground. In his apartment, Steve blinks rapidly when he flicks on the lights. Almost instantly he collapses into the couch. “This is comfy,” he tells Bucky.

“You should probably drink more water before you go to bed,” Bucky says, already heading for the sink to get him a cup of water.

When he comes back with it, Steve has slipped out of his hoodie and Bucky’s jacket, and is currently working on his pants. He can’t quite get them past his ankles, though, and Bucky smirks at him and watches for a few seconds until Steve slumps into the couch. “Can’t do it. Guess I’ll have to wear these pants for the rest of my life.”

Bucky quietly chuckles at him until Steve gives him a hurt look.

“I’ll help with your pants, but you gotta promise me you’ll drink this water.”

Steve thinks it over for a few long seconds and then nods his head enthusiastically. Bucky easily slips the pants past his ankles and Steve gives him an impressed look and starts chugging the water. Rolling his eyes, Bucky goes to his bedroom to retrieve a blanket and a pillow for him. When he comes back, Steve is curled up on his sofa with a content smile on his face. By the time Bucky places the pillow under his head and covers his body with the blanket, Steve is already dozing. Bucky wonders if maybe he shouldn’t let the guy who knocked himself unconscious fall asleep so soon, but he figures he’ll be okay.

Before heading off for bed, Bucky impulsively decides to write a quick note to place on the coffee table next to Steve for if he wakes up before Bucky.

On the back of an old envelope, Bucky writes, “ _Hey Steve, you tried to beat me up for saying Dumbledore was a good guy and then you knocked yourself unconscious. You couldn’t remember where you lived so I brought you back to my place. I didn’t kidnap you, I promise. –Bucky._ ”

Bucky hopes it isn’t as weird as he thinks it is.

***

It turns out that Bucky doesn’t have to worry about Steve thinking his note is weird because Bucky wakes up before him.

Bucky never closed his curtains before crashing, so sunlight is pouring into his bedroom and forcing him to wake up and face the day. He lingers in bed for a few minutes, absently thinking about the dream he had, but then suddenly he remembers last night. _Right_. He should probably make sure that he hasn’t been robbed by the random stranger he let crash at his place.

Throwing on a t-shirt, he stumbles into the living room to find Steve still asleep. He’s got his arms curled around the pillow Bucky had given him for his head and the blanket is half-off the couch. Bucky slowly walks closer and looks to see if he’s breathing. It’s just then, as Bucky is ominously looming over him, that Steve’s eyes flick open and he scrambles up. Before he can try to beat Bucky up, though, he’s cursing to himself and holding his head in his hands.

“What did I do?” Steve moans into his hands, voice low and gravelly.

Carefully snagging the note he wrote, Bucky gives Steve the recap from last night.

“Wow, I am so sorry,” Steve says quickly, blushing when he looks up from his hands. “I mean, I’m sorry for trying to beat you up and you having to deal with me, but I’m not sorry for yelling at you about Dumbledore. He’s an awful person.”

Bucky can’t help but to smile at him. “Yeah, I got that.”

“Thanks for taking care of me, though,” Steve says now.

“It’s no problem. I would’ve brought you to the hospital, but you seemed pretty against it.”

“Oh jeez,” Steve rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “I used to have to go to the hospital all the time when I was younger because I got sick a lot. Kind of hate them now.”

Bucky nods understandingly. “Well, you seem okay, so I think it all worked out,” he says. And then, shyly, “Plus, I got to take a pretty boy home, so not that bad of a night, all things considered.”

Steve blushes even harder when he hears this. “Yeah?”

“Definitely,” Bucky says, suddenly feeling cocky. “You said a lot of nice things about me last night, too. At one point you even said I had a beautiful face. That better not have been the amnesia talking.”

Steve barks out a laugh and looks Bucky over. “You’re alright,” he says teasingly, mockingly shrugging his shoulders.

“ _Alright_?” Bucky snorts. “Just _alright_?”

Steve shakes his head and laughs at Bucky. “I guess beautiful isn’t that far off,” he finally says, voice quiet and serious.

Bucky smiles at him and Steve smiles back. He likes Steve, even if he did kind of try to beat him up.

“So, how do you feel about breakfast?” Steve asks then. “I could really go for some pancakes and I feel like I kind of owe you one.”

“Are you going to try to beat me up again if I say yes?” Bucky asks, quirking a teasing eyebrow at Steve.

Steve smirks. “Can’t make any promises.”


End file.
